


Xiang Bang

by BouncyPickle



Category: xXx (Movies), xXx: Return of Xander Cage
Genre: Gang Rape, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt very little comfort, Hurt/Comfort, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Past Torture, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Torture, Violence, Xiang whump, basically I just wanted to hurt Xiang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-25 14:22:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9824375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BouncyPickle/pseuds/BouncyPickle
Summary: Marke lets Donathan torture Xiang. He won't be as easily broken as they thought.





	

**Author's Note:**

> As I said, there's noncon ahead. It's pretty graphic and this whole story is really just Xiang getting beat up. You have been warned!

* * *

 

 “Boss, can I...?” Captain Donathan asked Marke, motioning toward Xiang. Xiang tensed.

“Do whatever you want,” Marke rolled her eyes and Xander narrowed his; “Just don't kill him.”

When Donathan stepped toward the handcuffed man, Xander halted him with a firm grip on his arm. He glared up at Marke and Xiang watched the scene apprehensively.

“We both know he's not the bad guy here,” Xander tried but Marke just waved him off.

“Better to have a living terrorist than a dead company man,” she spun around and walked off.

Xiang was slapped across the face before the soldiers jerked him unkindly to his feet and Xander’s jaw clenched so hard, Xiang could see it across the room. Soldiers shoved Xiang into a jeep, the Captain took the passenger seat while Xiang sat in the back. He watched as the military man slid metal gloves over his hands. They whirred when he flexed his fingers.

“Triple X is nothing but a bunch of flunkies,” Donathan hissed; “You have no idea what it's like to be a soldier.”

Xiang laughed, leaning forward so he was sure Donathan was listening. “And you know nothing about war,” he chided, mocking; “You fight on behalf of higher men. No will of your own. You are nothing but cattle. Cannon fodder. Real soldiers are willing to die for their cause. You would die on nothing but another's whim.”

For that he was backhanded, head snapping to the side so hard Xiang fell into the man on his left. He shoved Xiang back up into a sitting position before Xiang laughed.

"Very clever rebuttal,” he hummed, working his jaw back and forth; “Solid argument.”

“Marke doesn't give a fuck about what happens to you,” Donathan snapped; “And Xander Cage isn't going to come to your rescue. I have the whole flight home to make you suffer.”

Xiang flopped back casually, crossing his legs; “Well let's hope your plan isn't to talk me to insanity, I'm afraid that won't take very long.”

Donathan snorted but it was an unamused sound; “Laugh it up now but I will hurt you like you have never been before.”

Xiang knew the other man was serious but he chuckled anyway; “I'm shaking in my boots.”

When they arrived at the landing strip, the man next to him grabbed Xiang’s shoulder much harder than necessary and threw him out of the car. He landed on his side on the hard cement and hissed in pain. Xander shot them a pointed look as Xiang was hauled to his feet by a rough grip on the back of his jacket.

“Nice place you got here,” Xiang let himself get dragged on board the high tech plane; “Expensive.”

He was shoved so hard he stumbled with an aggressive order to; “Shut it.” Metallic fingers closed around the back of his neck and Donathan steered him toward a back room. There were guns on the walls and two tables sitting in the room's center. Behind him Xiang could here Marke and Xander talking.

“You're just another tyrant,” Xander accused.

“No, I'm a patriot,” Marke corrected, “Let me show you the difference.”

Three shots rang out and Xiang spun around just in time to see Xander fall. “Xander!” he called out and Donathan caught Xiang around his middle, hauling him into the armory; “Xander!”

“They say it's the last great adventure, Cage,” Marke’s voice came out amused and Xiang’s stomach twisted into knots; “be sure and send a postcard.”

Then Xiang was dragged away, Xander’s limp body dropping out of view.

Donathan laughed; “Told you Xander wasn't going to save you. Asshole couldn't even save himself.”

Xiang’s hands were cuffed behind his back but he wasn't completely defenseless. He kicked Donathan squarely in the crotch and when he bent forward, Xiang slammed his boot into the side of the man's head. A metal covered hand shot out, trying to grab him, and Xiang rolled back across the table, putting it between him and the other man. Blood trickled down the side of Donathan’s face and Xiang was just a little impressed the man was still conscious.

“You're going to regret that,” Donathan hissed and as more soldiers made their way into the room, Xiang thought he may be right.

He cocked a cheeky brow instead; “I doubt that.”

A soldier grabbed him from behind and Xiang stomped his foot, kicked the inside of his knee and toppled him. Another rushed him from the right and Xiang spun around, lifting his leg to kick him. Something hard and metal caught his ankle with enough force to stop him mid air and then Xiang was flipped onto his back, landing on the table hard enough to knock the wind out of him. He tried to jerk his leg free and when he couldn't, brought his other foot down to kick Donathan in his ugly face. A metal hand caught that one too and then Xiang’s legs were immobile.

A sickening feeling of dread sank in Xiang’s stomach when Donathan dragged him to the edge of the table, forced his legs apart and shoved himself between them. Xiang could feel the other man’s waist pressed against his ass. When Donathan laughed at what must have been confusion and panic on Xiang’s face, Xiang snapped up and headbutted him with all his strength. Donathan stepped back with a shout and almost dropped him but managed to hold firm, fingers squeezing Xiang’s calves so hard he felt his bones creak underneath.

“Hold him down!” Donathan ordered and hands fell on Xiang’s shoulders, pushing him flat onto his back. Three men were holding him down and Xiang was struggling so hard he almost broke free. Donathan had a bloody nose when he leaned over Xiang. “I'm going to show you what we do to traitors here,” he snarled and Xiang growled back; “Get his pants down.”

Xiang should have been expecting that, and in a way he was, but he still struggled with renewed vigor when a man grabbed at him. Big, blunt fingers snagged the edge of his pants and jerked them down hard, not even bothering to unbutton them first. They pulled tight across his thighs, denting his flesh painfully, as Xiang’s cock was revealed. The soldiers around him laughed and Xiang jerked when a big hand gripped his bare thigh roughly. Xiang was flexible but Donathan tested his limits when he shoved Xiang’s slender legs into his chest down to his shoulders. It opened him to the other men and crushed his lungs, making Xiang feel trapped and helpless. Behind his back, his fingers were going numb and Xiang clenched them into fists.

“Not so talkative now,” the Captain snapped, unzipping his flight suit; “Good. Keep your mouth shut and maybe your jaw won't get broken.”

Xiang knew what was coming but when Donathan entered him suddenly, thick cock tearing him open, Xiang couldn't restrain a choked off gasp. There was laughter around him as Donathan immediately set about fucking him mercilessly. Every time the other man slammed home, Xiang could barely stop himself from crying out.

He had years of discipline and training in how to endure torture, had put them to the test a few times, so Xiang took a controlled breath, steadying his heartbeat. Then he carefully let his body relax and allowed his mind to drift away, closing his eyes. Pain was nothing but a distant echo. Suddenly a metallic hand wrapped around his throat and Xiang was snapped from his reverie.

“Keep your eyes open,” Donathan demanded; “I want you to watch and learn your lesson.”

When the fingers on his neck squeezed, Xiang let out a strangled, frustrated noise. He couldn't breathe at all but more than that, Xiang felt his fragile larynx buckling under the pressure. Tears broke out across the surface of his eyes when Donathan squeezed a little harder, thrusting into him with a little more force. Xiang could feel blood pooling in his cheeks and lips, heating his skin and pounding along with his heart, then his vision began to swim. His eyelids fluttered and he felt his body going limp around the bigger man's brutal pounding.

Just when black trickled into his peripherals, Donathan dropped his hold. Blood rushed from his head and Xiang sucked in a huge gasp of air, coughing when it hit his throat. Pain immediately blossomed in his neck and he shuddered, groaning. Donathan laughed down at him, metal fingers snatching his jaw and making Xiang face him.

“I could have broken your neck,” he mocked, tapping Xiang on his cheek, playful if he wasn't buried to the hilt inside of Xiang’s body.

Xiang swallowed against the pain of speaking; “Nah, the boss lady would have your balls if you did tha-argh!”

Donathan cut him off by pulling all the way out and slamming back inside in one hard thrust. “Just because I can't kill you, doesn't mean I can't make you wish you were dead,” Donathan snapped, leaning back so he could fuck Xiang with more force.

Xiang gasped, body jerking against his restraints; the ache of his position was starting to take its toll. Donathan fucked him viciously, pace erratic and violent, before he pushed as far in as he could and came. Wet heat spread inside of Xiang’s body and he shuddered in disgust, letting out a shaky groan of protest. Donathan paused inside him to catch his breath before wrenching himself free and Xiang bit back a cry of pain.

“Flip him,” Donathan ordered and before Xiang could get his bearings, he was face down, world spinning. “Have at him boys,” Donathan chuckled and patted Xiang on his head; he flinched away wildly; “You are going to beg us to kill you. Death would be a mercy from what's about to come.”

Xiang spit at the Captain; “Death would be a mercy from listening to you yammer on! Shut the fuck up and bring it. You won't break me, I promise.”

Donathan snagged Xiang’s hair and wrenched his head to the side too far so he was forced to look up at him from an awkward angle. “We'll see about that,” he growled but a smirk was carved across his features.

He held Xiang in place when someone entered him from behind suddenly, watching the minute tick of pain cross Xiang’s scowling features. The soldier fucking him leaned down, biting at Xiang’s shoulder sharply and Xiang twitched in surprise, a short, startled gasp jumping from his throat. Then Donathan laughed, dropping him, and Xiang let his chin smack against the hard surface of the table.

He dropped his face, resting his forehead against the cool metal surface, and closed his eyes. This time Donathan let him and Xiang fought to control his breathing. As the man behind him pounded into him with more force, Xiang guided his mind away, falling into a meditative state. He recited mantras in his mind to keep his focus away from his body, a trick he learned when he was a child training in martial arts.

The world around him changed but his body continued to hurt so Xiang kept himself as far into his meditation as he could. At some point, he was rolled onto his back, breaking his focus. Hands tore his jacket open, breaking the zipper, and Xiang struggled as the thin tank top underneath was ripped open. Someone came on his stomach as he calmed himself once again and returned to his mantras and his safe place. He felt hot come splatter across his face, landing over one of his eyes but he refused to let himself be drawn back to the present.

Finally he was forced out of his mind when a cold metal hand gripped his elbow and hauled him to his feet. Xiang stumbled when pain exploded through his body. He bent forward to steady himself, trying to breathe, but it caught in his throat when he saw the amount of blood smeared over the inside of his thighs.

“You tired my boys out,” Donathan sighed, reaching up to wipe a slimey splash of come off Xiang’s cheekbone. Xiang recoiled away before he could stop himself and Donathan chuckled; “I'm impressed you held out for so long.”

The soldier yanked Xiang forward, forcing him to walk even though his pants were down and his legs were buckling under him. Donathan just held him up more firmly, grip on his arm so tight Xiang’s muscles spasmed under it. When Donathan threw Xiang to the ground carelessly, Xiang couldn't catch himself. He landed across Xander’s corpse and frantically scrambled away. Donathan grabbed him by the hair and shoved him down, face to face with Xander’s lifeless body.

“You will break,” he promised darkly, breath hot and sickening in Xiang’s ear; “Triple X is all going to die and you're going to envy them by the time I'm done with you.” The bigger man pushed Xiang down into Xander as he stood, chuckling at the noise of distress Xiang couldn't hold back. “Stay here,” he ordered; “Once I kill your team I'll be back for you. You didn't think the fun was over yet, did you?”

Xiang rolled away from Xander and fell onto his back. He was cold, in the cargo bay with his clothes open and exposing him, drying blood still wet between his legs. Xiang shivered and it sent shock waves of pain through his whole body. A tiny, choked whine rose up his throat, dragging bile along with it. His eyes had just slipped shut when Xander gasped next to him, startling Xiang so much he jumped and cussed when it jerked his body in all the wrong ways.

Xiang watched in awe and horror as Xander’s eyes fluttered open and he sucked in a long breath. He was so fucking happy Xander was alive. Maybe they still stood a chance after all.

“Damn Becky, that's some body armor,” he chuckled and then his eyes found Xiang and they widened.

He opened his mouth to speak but Xiang saw a soldier approaching and kicked Xander’s hip in warning. He lifted a finger to his lips and Xiang nodded. Xander played dead.

“Didn't your mother ever teach you any manners?” Xiang snapped and the man stomped over to stand above him; “She didn't teach you to zip up your zipper?”

The man snorted; “like you can talk-ugn!” but Xiang didn't let him finish, kicking out his instep.

When the soldier stumbled, dropping to his knees, Xiang shot up and wrapped his legs around his neck. He dragged the man to the floor and held on through all of his silent squirming and gasping. Then twisting his hips he snapped the other man’s neck with a sickening crack. Xander rose to his arms as Xiang kicked the soldier’s corpse away from him.

“Well?” he asked expectantly, tugging at the cuffs on his wrists.

Once Xander snagged the keys from the soldier's belt, he pushed Xiang until he was sitting up and immediately freed him. A huge sigh of relief Xiang didn't even realize he'd been holding escaped him. The first thing he did was pull his pants back up, hating how sticky his skin felt underneath. Xander offered him a hand up to his feet and Xiang stumbled when he stood.

“Those fuckers are going to pay,” Xander growled and slipped his shirt off, leaving him in just his body armor. He passed the fabric over to Xiang; “Here.” Xiang didn't take it, just furrowed his brows in confusion. “So you can wipe it off,” Xander explained shortly.

Xiang scrambled to grab the shirt, not caring that the rough fabric scratched at a cut on his cheekbone as he scrubbed his face clean. Then he wiped his chest and stomach off, rubbing the fabric over his skin until it was red. When Xander caught his hand, stopping him from grating his skin down until it bled, Xiang flinched hard. Suddenly he remembered Donathan’s words and when Xander quickly tried to pull away, Xiang grabbed his wrist.

“They're going to kill them,” adrenaline brought sharp awareness to Xiang’s mind; “We have to stop it Xander.”

Apparently that was enough explanation because Xander’s face snapped into a determined look. “Can you fight?” he asked, somehow not pitying but sincere.

Xiang grinned, teeth bloody; “I can fight and I can kill. Let's do this.” They stopped at the foot of the stairs leading up, Xiang watched the soldiers milling around in the armory and he saw red. “I'll go low,” he pointed Xander toward the stairs.

“Then I'll go high,” as Xander moved up the steps, Xiang heard him snarl; “Maybe I'll find G.I. Joe,” and Xiang chuckled. He certainly hoped he would.

Xiang wasn't as fast as normal but it was enough to kick the slow-moving asses of the soldiers who had violated him. If he kicked a little harder than normal, snapping a knee, or jerked an arm backward with a little too much force, popping it from its socket, Xiang figured they deserved it. He normally hated using anger to fight, it made him sloppy, but this counted as an exception. Just as he flipped a gun up into his hands, shooting down an asshole to his right, the plane suddenly lurched forward.

Everyone was thrown into the air and Xiang’s stomach dropped, like riding a rollercoaster. He laughed out loud, continuing his fight even into zero gravity. He didn't bother saving bullets, shooting the flailing soldiers around him with fervor. When he felt the plane leveling, Xiang flipped down to catch himself on his feet but he didn't see Marke until she had already shot him in the leg.

When he finally did land, it was in a heap, back slamming into the wall and opening the cargo doors before he fell onto his stomach. His guns clattered of to the side.red to the side. Blood poured freely from his leg and Xiang figured that was not a good sign. His vision faded in and out but Xiang saw the parachute strap under Marke’s shoe. She raised her gun, eager to shoot him, but Xiang spoke first.

“They say it's the last great adventure,” he mimicked, flipping the parachute free, and it immediately cinched around Marke’s ankle. She fell next to him, eyes wide and horrified. “Be sure and send a postcard!” Xiang called out over her scream as she was dragged out to her certain death.

He could see Pandora’s Box laying beside him and snatched it up. Tucking it into his chest, Xiang curled onto his side. The air whipped around him, icy cold against the bare flesh of his chest, but Xiang couldn’t move. He tried to push himself up but his arm buckled under him. His pants felt wet and hot from where the blood of his gunshot wound had seeped in, spreading throughout the fabric. There was a lot of it pooling around him and Xiang suddenly realized Marke could have hit an artery.

His trembling, weak fingers tore a chunk of his already shredded tank top off and his hands shook as he tied it around his upper thigh, a tourniquet. When the plane tipped upward sharply, a parachute slid down the floor in front of him and he snagged it, bringing it in close alongside Pandora’s Box. Xiang knew these were both very important so he held on tight even as darkness trickled into his vision. The aircraft lurched again and he rolled down the ramp, stopping before toppling off but so close to the edge he had to catch the heel of his shoe in a nook to keep from falling.

Thundering footsteps approached from behind but Xiang couldn’t lift his head to investigate the noise. Suddenly Xander was kneeling over him, yanking the parachute from his grasp before grabbing Xiang by the elbow and throwing him off the plane. Xander jumped after him just before the plane exploded in a burst of red. Xiang held on tight to Pandora’s Box even as he fell. Above him Xander pulled the parachute on and locked it into place, then dove toward him.

He collided into Xiang, knocking the wind out of him, before yelling into Xiang’s ear; “Grab onto me! Xiang! Hang on!”

So Xiang slung an arm behind Xander’s neck. Xander grabbed him around the waist before the parachute whooshed open and jerked them to a swift halt. A pathetic noise of pain bubbled up his throat and Xiang’s head lulled against Xander’s shoulder; he wouldn’t faint though. Now was not a good time to pass out.

“Serena, can you hear me?!” Xander yelled into what Xiang assumed was his phone; “We’re coming in hot so be ready to be on the move when we land!” There was a pause, probably Serena asking Xander something but Xiang couldn’t bring himself to eavesdrop. “Xiang’s bleeding out,” was Xander’s response; “No, he’s on our side now. It’s a long story!”

Their landing was a whirl of commotion. They hit the ground hard, Xiang slipping from Xander’s hold and rolling across the hard cement. It scraped up his chest and tore the elbow out of his jacket but Xiang ended up on his back, alive. Xander action rolled to his feet and unclipped the parachute in one smooth motion, hurrying to Xiang’s side.

“Xiang, you still with me?” Xander was panting but his voice was burning with excitement. Xiang felt it too; there was always something thrilling about surviving something damn near impossible.

Xiang laughed despite himself; “I live for this shit.”

Xander knelt down, grabbed Xiang’s arm and hiked the smaller man up over his shoulders, fireman’s carry style. Xiang would normally argue but he didn’t bother; he really didn’t feel like walking right now. Cars approached and one skidded to a stop in front of them.

Serena threw the side door open and waved them inside; “Come on. Darius knows someone who will patch us up no questions asked.”

Xander tossed Xiang into a seat and Xiang shuddered in pain, dropping Pandora’s Box to the floor. Then Xander was shoving in beside him, the door slammed shut and the car jerked to a start. A pair of hands pressed into the wound on his thigh and Xiang jerked away, fingers shooting up and gripping Xander’s bicep tightly. Hanging onto the other man kept Xiang grounded and Xander didn’t complain.

“Darius? Darius Stone is here?” Xander sounded surprised which was apparently surprising.

“You didn’t know?” Serena asked, incredulous; “What did you think would happen when I dialed 9?”

Xiang groaned before he could stop himself, hands dropping to the seat, and his eyes slipped shut. “Whoa, whoa, hey,” Xander’s wet fingers slid across Xiang’s chin when he turned his head and Xiang flinched away; “Stay with us.” Xiang nodded and his eyes fluttered as he fought to keep them open.

“How much blood did he lose?” Serena asked, suddenly concerned.

“Lots,” Xiang answered, hand flopping around and motioning at the red liquid covering his pants; “They’re ruined.”

Serena chuckled next to him as she checked his tourniquet. “I hate to tell you this Xiang, but I think the whole outfit isn’t going to make it,” she added as she hoisted Xiang's leg up and dropped it on top of the center console. Xiang squirmed but tried to keep still.

“Not the boots,” he panted, “Please tell me they didn’t ruin my boots.”

“Sorry boss,” Talon answered from the front seat, tapping the bottom of Xiang’s shoe; “I don’t think you could scrub that much blood off with all the Mr. Clean products in the world.”

Xiang dropped his head back onto the car seat, playing it off as being upset. “Fuck,” his voice was barely above a whisper; “Assholes ruined my favorite fucking shoes.”

“Yes and they're all dead,” Serena patted his shoulder, comforting him, and Xiang snorted; “You can always buy new boots, Xiang.”

Xiang swallowed down some unwelcome emotion swelling in his chest. “They're dead,” he repeated, too sharp for it to sound casual; “and I'm not fucking joining them.”

Talon chuckled; “That's the spirit, boss.”

Xiang had his fair share of run-ins with death in the past and this didn't feel like any one of them. When the car finally stopped, Serena and Xander carried him out and Xiang was too weak to even help. It didn't really matter, once Talon and Hawk caught up they helped lift his weight. Someone to his right bitched about getting shot in the ass.

“Me arse is killin’ me!” and Xiang snorted out a laugh; he could certainly relate to that.

“Yo doc!” a voice Xiang had never heard before, Darius probably, called out and Xiang’s hand slipped off his stomach to hang loosely by his side. Shit, he was shivering and Xiang knew from experience that was not a good sign.

“He is going to need a blood transfusion!” Xiang must have looked as bad as he felt if the doctor could tell that at first glance; “What blood type are you, son?” Xiang wondered how old this doctor was if Xiang was young enough to be called son.

“Xiang? Blood type,” Serena snapped and it brought Xiang’s focus back.

“AB negative,” he was pretty sure that was right. The doctor cursed so probably.

“Anyone else AB negative? How about O negative?”

The woman with green hair spoke up, sighing; “Universal donor here.”

Xiang was plopped down onto some kind of bed and even though it wasn't exactly hard, the thin mattress tried to be soft, a shout was torn from his throat.

“Sit down please, he's going to need blood as soon as possible,” hands were on his face, jerking his eyes open and shining a light in them; “I see a GSW to your upper thigh, probably just missed your artery or only nicked it, considering you're alive. Any other injuries? List them.”

Xiang took a moment to catalog his current state. “Possible trauma to my larynx, sprained ankle, probably a whole hell of a lot of internal damage from being raped by a whole fucking platoon of soldiers, possibly broken knuckle on my left hand and I think I chipped a tooth,” he jumped when the doctor pressed down on his cheek; “and there may be a fracture where you're poking at me.”

There was an intense silence and the doctor ordered everyone but the sniper and the Scotsman from the room. “You stay put, we need your blood, and you sit on that bed over there. I'll get to you once he is stabilized,” the man's gruff voice left no room for argument.

Laying on his back made the room spin and Xiang blinked, trying to get his eyes to focus. He could feel the doctor tugging his pants down, moving them away from his bullet wound. He managed to stop himself from flinching.

“That's gnarly,” the girl said, watching.

“Do you have a belt?” Xiang asked and she quirked a thin brow at him; “preferably one you do not love and treasure.”

She snapped the belt free from her waist and stuffed it into his hand, frowning in disgust when he shoved it in his mouth and bit down. “You will probably pass out,” the doctor had tweezers and a needle with thread.

“I won't,” Xiang assured around the leather on his tongue.

He didn't; not when the man dug the bullet out of his flesh, not when he stitched everything back together. Screams were cut off every time he bit down but they were loud and shocking in the quiet room anyway. “Can hardly wait fer my turn,” the man in the corner piped up and Xiang laughed, a little weak sounding.

A bandage was wrapped around his thigh and Xiang was too tired and sweaty to even twitch. The doctor got to work setting up the blood transfusion, talking as he did so; “I need to tend to his bullet wounds first and then we will examine the extent of trauma caused by your assault.”

Xiang waved a hand, acknowledging, and tossed the woman's belt at the injured man's face. “You may want that,” he panted, chuckling.

The Scotsman decided not to use it and his shouts were much louder and carried much further than Xiang’s had. He passed out but it was only for a minute or two.

As blood returned to his body, Xiang felt more like himself again. “What's your name?” he asked to his right, “I do not believe we've formally met.”

“Adele,” she answered, drumming her fingers along the metallic railing of her own medical bed; “and you're Xiang.”

“And I'm Tennyson,” the man across the room added, laughing now that his wound care was over and he was awake.

“Nice to meet you both,” Xiang offered up a smile and Adele returned it with a wary look.

“Did they really rape you?” she asked as if it was painful to say; “Those boot steppers?”

Xiang snorted bitterly; “No, I made it up. I just like it when everyone thinks I'm pathetic.”

“Sorry,” she sighed; “I worked with them to catch you. Knew they were good for nothing but I didn't think they were that bad.”

“If it makes ye feel any better,” Tennyson piped up; “X stuffed that big fellow down the crapper.”

Xiang laughed; “You know what? That really does.”

 

* * *

 


End file.
